CHAPTER NINE

"These are all the relevant files." Philip Wren handed over the paperwork to the other Captain.

"Thanks." The fellow soldier and friend paused, looking into the weary green eyes. "Now you want to tell me the real reason why you don't want this case, after working so hard to filch it from the feds?"

Wren's lips tightened.

His friend sighed. "Alright, I'll take it over. But seriously, taking a leave of absence, now?"

"If not now, when?" Wren shrugged nonchalantly.

The other Captain shook his head, knowing Wren wasn't going to tell him anything more. "I won't press you. I get there's something in this case that gets to you, so. Go home. Rest up. I'll let you know when we've made advancement and when it's solved."

"Thank you." Philip said gratefully.

When Captain Philip Wren of the United States Army returned home at the end of the day there was another letter waiting. He picked it up from his mailbox and flipping through the envelopes as he made walked through the hallway, it made him pause. It didn't matter that he had expected another one of its kind would be arriving; the name penned on the surface addressed to a man who no longer lived there hurt.

He sat down on the couch, placing the rest of the paperwork on the coffee table to be dealt with later. Even knowing what he would find, he still was hesitant. Ripping open one side of the envelope, he found it just like all the others, there was one folded sheet of paper inside wrapped around another smaller envelope. Unfolding the page there was only one sentence standing starkly out from the white expanse: For the light in our lives.

Philip breathed in and closed his eyes in pain.

. : - : .

Charlie walked quietly away from the infirmary where Osaki and her unit, found after 4 days of lost communications, were recovering; he had spent 3 sleepless nights working out various equations and sending out scouting teams on each new lead. Finally the missing team was located this morning; tired, dehydrated, wounded and starving, but alive. Charlie turned into the hallway and paused.

Anderson stood there: feet apart, shoulders straight, hands clasped behind him at attention. And the look in his eyes that Charlie was still only getting used to seeing now because of his time with Krythan and Vahn.

Pride. Pure pride.

It always took his breath away.

Pride, with none of the confusion that mingled in his family's eyes when they turned it on him. None of the: what am I going to do with you? Where did you come from? How am I supposed to understand you?

Just pride. Pure. In Charlie. In what Charlie could do.

"You amaze me." Anderson said, still in the respectful stance. "Every time. Always did. Always do. Always will."

Charlie flushed, slow and deep. "I…I." Charlie stuttered.

Anderson's upper body leaned forward, tilting in a bow until his forehead lay to rest on Charlie's shoulder. "I love you." Always said with such wonder, awe, and fierce determination.

A chalk calloused hand slowly came up to rest on the strong, solid, uniformed back. "I love you too." And it wasn't a lie.

. : - : .

"It doesn't add up David." Agent Colby Granger said leaning back in his chair. "I feel like we're missing something here about Williamson."

David looked up from the report he was writing, "It doesn't have to Colby. It's not our case anymore."

"I know," Colby said disgruntled, "and what's with that man? They came waltzing in here and taking our investigation away – away, not even sharing it."

"Politics." David told him, "It happens Granger, get over it."

"I know, I know." Colby sighed. "But seriously, before they pulled the plug on us, from what my friend told me, it doesn't make sense how Williamson got injured."

David sat back, settling in for the conversation the other man seemed to need to have. "What do you mean?"

Colby leaned forward towards the dark skinned man. "Look, see Williamson was part of Frynd-Sign. For years. And he gets hurt in a practice maneuver? He's an experienced rock climber. He would have recognized he had the wrong equipment for his weight right away."

"People make mistakes all the time." David reminded him.

"Not in covert-ops. Not in Frynd-Sign." Colby argued.

David raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're not just idolizing him a bit? You seem a bit into this hype about the Frynd-Sign."

Colby had the grace to look embarrassed. "A bit, but David; you gotta understand. In Frynd-Sign, or covert-ops in general? You either died within the first 6 months or you did every single thing you could to make sure as heck that you stayed alive. According to his record, Williamson had been with Frynd-Sign since the very beginning. When he moved they gave him his own team to lead, right away."

"So what you're saying is that there should be no way he made such an elementary mistake." David deduced. "What if he was tired? Maybe he hadn't enough sleep."

Colby shook his head. "Covert-ops for that many years, you have to be used to running on low energy and little to no sleep."

David was starting to understand where Colby was going, "So…what do you think? He staged it?"

Colby shook his head, "No. No way could he have gone near the equipment before the incident and no one remembered. I think he saw an opportunity and took it."

"To take a fall and dislocate his shoulder?" David questioned. "Why?"

Colby shrugged. "What we do know is that after the accident, between the time before he left the base and arrived here he made a call to Victor Helm. So that he knew they could meet up."

"But Helm was shot." David picked up the literarily. "And if that the whole point of this then either the cause was negated or he would have gone straight to see Helm in the hospital." David widened his eyes, "But instead of Helm he went and visited…"

"Charlie." Colby finished, sharing look of astonishment with his partner.

"What would Charlie have to do with anything in the military?" David wondered.

"Don said that Williamson told them that they met when Williamson was in training and Charlie was giving a presentation." Colby furrowed his brows. "What was the presentation about?"

David stood up and pulled on his jacket, "Let's find out."

. : - : .

"I was an assassin," Krythan said calmly, "which means you need to know exactly how many ways you can kill someone. Which means you need to know exactly how many ways someone can die. Which means, conversely, you also know exactly how many ways they won't."

"Which means you know exactly how many ways they can suffer, but won't perish." Charlie whispered in realization and stared wide eyed at Krythan.

The older woman nodded and cupped his face in her hands, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his forehead. "Don't make me use that knowledge baby boy."

. : - : .

The mathematician prodigy looked up and across the coffee table to where the other man sat, whom he had asked to come over because there were things they had to discuss. Gregory Williamson had sat patiently in silence for the past half hour since being let in the door to Charlie's house, letting the university professor take the time he needed to organize his thoughts.

Charlie threaded his fingers together and leaned forward, taking a fortifying breath before speaking, "Lieutenant Williamson."

Greg felt shock bolt through him at the address, back stiffening. The two opening words set the tone for the rest of the conversation. This wasn't his friend Charlie Eppes speaking, Charlie never referred to any of the soldiers by their designations unless absolutely necessary, he only called them by the titles under formal conditions. This was his superior speaking, his old strategic commander: Frynd-Sign's Tactician.

After such a long absence.

Williamson resisted the urge to stand at attention, old habits resurging to prove they hadn't been as forgotten as supposed.

"If, in the event of Frynd-Sign Company reassembling and the absence of Commanders Krythan Sign and Vahn Frynd," Charlie paused, "would you be my Second?"

Greg felt a second shock run through him in less then minutes. "Charlie…" The soldier said roughly.

Greg had seen how the other man has been hesitant about reengaging the Company but now here he was planning for the eventuality, and although it wasn't completely unexpected, to be asked to stand as Charlie's Second-In-Command was a great honor and large responsibility. Greg wasn't sure if he could measure up to the people Charlie was used to supporting him: Krythan and Vahn. Greg wasn't sure if he could measure up to them even with 10 more years of experience under his belt. Charlie watched the world though miraculous eyes that saw too much ever since he was young, absorbing and integrating information faster Greg could ever hope to catch up to.

It was a large responsibility. To be a support to a great man required the best.

"I…"

Charlie smiled wryly, as if he knew what Greg was thinking, the edges were tinged with sadness. "It's asking a lot, I know. But the one I would have asked is no longer here." Charlie's voice fell soft. "Anderson had been the last…"

The last and the only. Anderson had been the first to be trained by Krythan and Vahn to be prepared to act as Charlie's 2IC if there ever came such a time Charlie needed someone, but after Anderson passed away Charlie had been too raw, and anyone being trained for the position would have been seen as trying to take Anderson's spot. Everyone could see how much that would hurt Charlie, so Krythan and Vahn worked fiercely that it would never need to happen, and no one had been offered the position again.

Until now.

Greg saw the pain in his friend's eyes and the strain that tightened Charlie's face. Charlie's lips were pinched white; it was the first time in years that he had spoken his name.

It was a huge responsibility and Gregory Williamson couldn't hope to measure up to the others that were much better matched at supporting Charlie Eppes but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

"I would be honored." Greg said and watched some of the tension leave his friend. The pain still lurked behind Charlie's eyes but at least it didn't hurt to look at his friend anymore.

Charlie smiled, this time for real, gratitude clear in his eyes. Gregory felt his throat close up, being offered the position showed the amount of trust Charlie had in him, and he wanted to be worthy of that sentiment. There was something that Greg should have told Charlie the first day he came, ever since he saw that man. He had known but had hoped he wouldn't have to; he hadn't wanted to hurt Charlie, but the situation was different now. A knock on the front door forestalled any words he might have spoken.

The professor got up to open the door and when he did so there was a beautiful brunette woman on the doorstep, the cut of her suit exact, and the line of her shoulders expressing strength. She was familiar but not well known.

"Charlie." She greeted, staring at him.

"Hello." He replied.

"I'm here for the Company." She told him.

He nodded, stepping back to let her through. He had thought as much.

Charlie watched as Greg rose from the couch when he saw her. "Jessica."

Jessica, a limp figure on the infirmary bed, waking up with hollowed eyes; simply to close them again as Gryffin told her the news, silent tears trailing down her pale cheeks. Jessica standing by the window with an empty gaze, staring out at the gray sky until Gryffin guided her back to a seat. Jessica, whom Gryffin had taken with him when he had been offered the position at NSA. Jessica, watching the world with unfocused eyes, tucked up underneath Gryffin's shoulder as he led her out.

Charlie remembered watching from a distance, knowing they were the only two things that kept Gryffin Beck moving: Charlie, pulling from ahead, fierce in his determination that they would survive this ordeal; Jessica, pushing him from behind, wandering the hallways for a reason to exist. She stood taller now, stronger and older, but underneath it all, underneath all the strength and trials of adversity and stubbornness, she just as sad as she had always been.

Charlie opened his arms, knowing they had been the last two to have known Gryffin best; to have mattered the most to the deceased man.

She fell into him like she had just been waiting for the gesture. Waiting for days. She clung and Charlie let her, clinging back. Grief, harsh and deep, rushed through them. They had never interacted much but Gryffin had connected them.

"I was notified about Gryffin." Charlie murmured.

Jessica was silent for a long moment, knuckles white with the strength of her grip in Charlie's shirt. Small tremors ran through her body and Charlie felt the fabric of his shoulder become damp with tears. He closed his eyes and waited for her to be ready to speak.

"He'd been waiting to die since we left Frynd-Sign." Jessica finally spoke softly. "He was so glad that you and I made it, but he'd been waiting to die ever since."

I'm sorry, Charlie didn't say. He couldn't. They both knew what she said was the truth. The Gryffin Beck who had survived the hellish weeks trapped in their base while he lost his team members one after another until none were left – the man who had walked off that base had been forever changed from the laughing man they had known before. His faith had been tested and broken; he hadn't liked how his whole team was gone but he walked out alive. Some days, it had all been just because Jessica had lost everyone as well, and he had wanted to be there to be the one to tell her when she woke up, to give her the comfort of having someone who understood the pain. Gryffin hadn't been suicidal, he wouldn't had waste his life like that, Krythan and Vahn had taught them better than that – but to go down fighting and to join those that were waiting for him. Yes, they both knew that was what the man Gryffin Beck wanted.

"I'm glad you came." Charlie said softly into her hair when the trembles stopped.

"You called." She mumbled into the tear stained shoulder.

Charlie didn't have the strength to smile. "Vahn summon." He clarified.

She shook her head, pulling back to stare into his eyes. "You called."

Charlie's eyebrows furrowed, confused. She gave a tiny smile. "I think we should talk: you and me."

Greg, who had been standing silently in the background, looked to Charlie for a response but his disagreement was clear in the slant of his shoulders. "I'd prefer to stay."

Jessica turned, stepping out of Charlie's comforting arms, to look at the other soldier. "I'd prefer to keep it private." She said. "I am adequate protection for Charlie for just a short while. The topic does not involve Frynd-Sign."

"But it involves my First." Greg pointed out.

"He is my First as well." Jessica replied.

Charlie intervened as Greg took a step forward, shoulders back and ready to go into formal posture, "What Greg means, is that I asked him to stand as my Second."

Jessica stilled. Slowly she looked from Charlie to Greg. "You accepted?" She questioned.

"It's a great honor."

The female Agent tilted her head in acknowledgement, "You think you are up to the task?"

Anger flashed in the soldier's blue eyes. "I can try."

"Jessica." Charlie said softly in reprimand.

The brunette turned to meet his stare, defiance clear in her eyes. "To be your Second is a large responsibility."

"I know." Greg said before Charlie could speak.

"Failure is not an option." Jessica told the soldier.

"I never planned on it." Greg replied.

"Good. Make sure it doesn't happen."

Charlie sighed in resignation. Frynd-Sign's habit of being protective had not been lessened over time.

"Alright." Jessica said, "You can stay for the conversation if Charlie wishes it, I would like to request for privacy, but I accept your place as Second and your best interest to stay by Charlie at all times."

"It's alright Greg." Charlie said with a nod. "You stay here." Charlie motioned the soldier back towards the couch, "We'll be in the kitchen. We'll shout if we need you."

Some of the tension left the Lieutenant's shoulders now that he knew he wouldn't need to leave the premises. "You'll keep the backdoor locked?"

Charlie nodded and Greg settled back down on the couch as Jessica followed Charlie into the kitchen.